Interesting Times
by Night's Inferno
Summary: A strange new young woman has arrived at Hogwarts. Don't worry, she's not trying to get into anyone's pants, but she is a bit... peculiar. And she seems to be turning everyone's lives quite upside down. Don't worry, no Mary Sue's in this story.
1. Chapter 1

Interesting Times

Chapter One: Arrival

Harry Potter lay in his hospital bed, glaring balefully at the neatly wrapped bandage around his hand. The enclosed appendage throbbed in pain every so often, but was otherwise unobtrusive. Spiny quills from a Northern Spike Cone had been extracted but had left their poison behind. And so Madam Pomfrey had wrapped him up with a warning to stay in bed so she could keep him for observation. The poison caused severe reactions in a small number of people and he might just be one.

Grand. One more thing to add to my messed up existence. An allergic reaction to a bloody plant!

He breathed deeply, forcing himself to calm down. This will be over soon. A few more hours and I can go down to dinner.

"Pomfrey!" The voice boomed through the door, followed quickly by Hagrid, arms cradling a small bundle lost in the half-giant's grasp.

On the other hand, maybe calm was overrated. Besides, whatever the grounds keeper was carrying spilled a fall of blond hair, tangled with leaves and sticks, over one arm.

Interesting. A student?

His musings were interrupted when Pomfrey burst back in the infirmary from her office, pink cap bobbing as she darted across the room.

"Hagrid, how dare you shout like that in a place of – oh my!" So she did notice.

Harry strained for a better look when the nurse ordered Hagrid to lay the person on an empty bed. Then she shoved him out of the way and whisked the curtains around. But Harry had seen most of a bare leg before the view was interrupted. A very shapely bare leg.

And, as with any adolescent male, he immediately assumed that this was some hot, foreign witch without a word of English who needed to be rescued by a strong, handsome, and powerful, wizard. And of course she would be so grateful that...well... you know. Stuff. Would just happen.

Hey, it gets kind of boring when all the girls you see are dressed in throat to floor robes all day. You tend to grow an advanced imagination.

Hagrid stood off to the side, wringing his hands and pacing, er, stomping across the infirmary floor. He kept mumbling to himself, tears trickling down his face to disappear in the tangled mess that was his beard.

Harry watched, interested in the proceedings as it was a damn fine bit of entertainment. Probably the best all day. Because Malfoy throwing a Spike Cone at him in Herbology, not entertaining. Maybe to Slytherins, but not to him. This was interesting.

Within a few minutes, Dumbledore swept through the door, managed to offer both Hagrid and Harry sweets without missing a breath or step and slipped into the curtained space with Pomfrey. This was getting even more interesting. Harry struggled upright and watched shadows sway to and fro behind the sheer curtains. Voices murmured and babbled and complained without giving anything away.

Several minutes more, Dumbledore emerged and, without even a nod to Harry, bustled Hagrid away.

Harry sulked. Neat things happening all around and not a clue of what's going on. Some entertainment. He winced as a new splinter of pain shot through his hand and then settled back into the bed with a sigh. Now that things weren't happening to him, he really wanted to know. Bloody hell.

Chapter Two: Conversations

She woke to whiteness. White walls, white floors, white ceiling. Ceilings of caves are not that uniform, she mused. Looking down, she noted that she was tucked into a white bed. White sheets lay folded neatly over her chest. Her arm itched; it was covered in white bandages.

Humans, she thought. I'm with humans. She grimaced slightly and then tried to lift her wrapped arm. Muscles in her back twinged and her shoulders screamed in protest. Her neck was sore, her legs ached and the tenderness of bruises echoed along her body. She relaxed against the pillows, silently bemoaning her injuries.

"Lemon drop?"

Her head whipped around fast enough to start up a whole new cacophony of agony. Shutting her eyes tight against it, she had to take several deep breaths before she could find out just who was with her.

An old man, older than she'd thought humans lived, sat in a low chair by her feet. He had bright blue eyes behind ridiculous spectacles and was smiling faintly at her. One hand was outstretched with a bright yellow sphere resting in it.

"What do you want?" she croaked, voice harsh from disuse.

"Only your safety, child," he assured, withdrawing his hand.

She chuckled. Child. It had been ages since someone had called her 'child'. Then abruptly she sobered.

"Where am I?"

"Hogwarts, a school of witchcraft and wizardry."

Ah, wizards. That was better than mortals. What did they call them? Oh yes, muggles. Such strange words. Hogwarts, muggles. Sounded like a bad case of something complete with oozy sores.

"And do you know how I got here?" she asked, hoping that he did. Because she certainly didn't.

"Ah, I only know that you were found on school grounds by our gamekeeper. Hagrid brought you here but he does not know how you arrived within the school grounds either."

She frowned, irritated with the answer. It was not what she had been hoping for. She tried to sit up again but fell back with a hiss of pain. The old man watched her curiously, slight pity in his eyes.

"What is your name, young lady?" he asked.

The girl thought a moment. A name. She had a name. An obvious name.

"Kenna." That was not it.

The man nodded, content with the answer he knew was false.

"For some reason, Kenna," he continued. "We were unable to heal your injuries. Magically." The unspoken question hung in the air. Why?

She only smiled and cursed her luck. Now that she had managed to injure herself t the point of bed rest, her own flesh and blood held back assistance. How aggravating.

"Magic is useless," she said ruefully. "Only time will help now."

The man nodded, his gaze now contemplative as if he searched a long memory for the answers he sought. After a moment he nodded.

"Very well. You may stay as long as you wish." He stood. "My name is Dumbledore. Your nurse is Madam Pomfrey. Call for her if you need anything."

"I will," said Kenna.

And he left. Leaving her alone with her pain and her thoughts.

Authors notes: So? What did you think? This has been lounging on my computer for ages and I just now decided to do something with it. So any and all feedback will be appreciated. Oh, and don't worry, Kenna and Harry aren't hooking up. Definitely not that kind of story.


	2. Chapter 2

Ch 3

Authors Note: I'll be putting up chapters in pairs since they tend to be so short. If they get longer I'll stretch it out a bit.

Several days of bandage changing, reflex checking and incessant bustling had finally come to the inevitable conclusion. Kenna was going to kill something. If that woman tried to shove one more spoon of gruel down her throat, she was going to bite the hand that fed her. Preferably off.

So she sat up, wincing at the pain that, while lessened, still persisted. Sliding from beneath the covers was a more tedious chore but she managed. Pins and needles shot through her legs as her feet touched the cold floor one at a time. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to stand. She was wobbly and a little light-headed, but she could manage.

And then that woman came back.

"Young miss, what on earth do you think you're doing?" Pomfrey demanded in her no-nonsense, evil overlord nurse voice.

"Can't you tell?" the young woman made out between gritted teeth. "I'm standing. You ought to try it."

"You sit right back down, young lady. You'll-"

"I'll what? Fall? Break something? Die?" She huffed angrily. "I will not spend one more minute in that bed. I would rather leap down a flight of stairs with my arms tied behind me."

"But, but, you're not dressed!" The nurse clung to the idea that no one in their right mind would leave the hospital wearing little more than a nightgown.

"Then you'd best find me something to wear before I figure out how to work the doorknob."

Cold brown met frantic gray eyes and the nurse finally threw up her hands and bustled to her office. What a wretched girl!

Finally dressed in what passed as clothing in this place, Kenna left the infirmary, robes fluttering. The swinging door almost caught a young man square in the face, but she brushed past him with little more than a snarl.

Neville Longbottom turned white and promptly passed out.

Down stairs that moved and hallways that seemed to turn in on themselves, Kenna managed to get herself horribly lost. With no indication of how far she was from the outside, the ground floor or the dungeon floors, she stalked along, determined to find something to assist her. Heaven forbid that something would be a person.

Heaven didn't listen very well. Hell was probably in on it, actually. Because around the next corner, the frustrated young woman found not one but three students walking along, engrossed in some conversation.

"You! Do you know how to get out of this blasted castle?"

All three heads snapped up and towards her. One flaming red-head, one messy black and one frizzy brunette. She stepped up to them, fists set on her hips. Well, one fist anyhow. The other hung uselessly in its bandages at her side.

"Well?"

The Gryffindor Trio stared in shock at the small, battered female standing before them. Bruises streaked up from under the neck of her robes. One arm was wrapped from fingers to elbow in thick white bandages. A spectacularly purple and blue bruise splattered the left side of her head, disappearing into the hairline. And she moved with a slight limp that bespoke other, unseen, injuries.

She glared at them in contempt and a slight sneer curled her lip. Unknowingly, they all decided she looked a little like Malfoy. But her blond was darker and those cold eyes brown. She also appeared both older than their seventeen and younger, depending on which features you focused on.

"I believe I asked a question, younglings," she growled when no answer came of her demand.

"What you calling a youngling?" this from the red-head.

"Oh, not you. The suit of armor behind you." Good Goddess, he actually turned to look.

The brunette, on the other hand, brushed unseen lint from her robes and cleared her throat. "I hardly think you're old enough to call us younglings. And I'm a Prefect, you know." She gestured to some lump of tin pinned to her chest. "You should at least show some respect or I'll take away-" She stopped, eyes narrowing into focus on the shoulder of Kenna's robes.

"You'll what?"

"What House are you in?"

"I am not part of any House or clan here. I'm trying to leave." She tapped her foot impatiently. "Do you know the way out or not?"

"Aren't you a student?"

Kenna closed her eyes and counted slowly to ten. Whatever it was supposed to do didn't work; she was still impatient and irritated. But she figured it was a bad idea to take out her anger on these helpless humans.

"I wish to leave," she said, careful to enunciate each syllable. "Show me the way out."

"Chocolate frog anyone?"

Kenna spun about, rather clumsily, and the others looked up as well.

"Headmaster, this girl-"

"Is our guest," Dumbledore interrupted. "Now have a chocolate frog and be off on your way." He still managed to twinkle even as he gave orders.

The three turned down the offer, but meandered along the hallway as they had been doing before the meeting of their 'guest.' The red-head glanced back, but the snobby female cuffed him and they turned a corner.

"It is not polite to aggravate my students, miss Kenna," the headmaster chided. But it was half hearted and he twinkled at her again and offered the chocolate amphibians once more.

She snatched it out of his hand and chomped off its defenseless head. Unsurprisingly, she was starving. But she guessed that the usual meal would not suffice.

"Would you care to take a tour of the kitchens, Kenna?"

Filthy human kitchens with their filthy human food.

Ch 4

Kenna took back everything she had ever thought was bad about human kitchens. Even there were no actual humans working in this kitchen, it was still wonderful. Three plates sat before her on a small table holding no less than half a dozen turkey leg bones neatly trimmed of all their meat. As she licked salty meat juices off her fingers she decided she must have a few of these... house elves for her own abode.

She was still trying to figure if she needed six or only three elves (how many would it take to haul a bull elk carcass?) when Dumbledore interrupted with a polite cough. She slanted a sidelong look of irritation at the old man.

"You weren't hoping to be thanked, were you?" she drawled.

"Heavens no," he replied calmly, undaunted by her disdain. "And don't bother to thank the elves, they'll get embarrassed. No I wished to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind."

Annoyance bubbled up as Kenna frowned. "Depends on the question." He'd best not try to pry anything out of me. Identities are meant to be guarded, not spilled about like -

"Rice?"

"Eh?" Kenna stared wide- eyed at the man, about to demand what this was all about. But Dumbledore merely presented a small bowl filled with faintly steaming white rice.

"Do you like rice?" he asked, as though one might a friendly neighbor. He didn't seem to realize what sort of reaction he had provoked.

"No," Kenna snapped, relaxing into her chair. Stupid, to think a human, even a wizard could read my thoughts like that. Silly.

"Do you have somewhere to go then?" Dumbledore asked conversationally. "Family or friends to stay with nearby? That is why you came through here isn't it? How you somehow wound up on school grounds."

He set the bowl down and took out his wand. Kenna tensed again, but the fool only waved it gently and set a handful of rice grains dancing like tiny fish darting about. The pattern was hypnotic, weaving back and forth in a long string that tangled itself into knots yet came undone at the next second.

"No," Kenna replied quietly.

"What was that, my dear?"

She jerked upright, suddenly aware that she had been staring, entranced for several moments.

"I said no, I don't have family near here. I don't even know where here is." She crossed her good arm over her lap while the fingers on the other hand twitched as she resented not being able to posture properly with it. If she didn't hurt so much, she could stand and loom over the seated human, snarl and demand to be released from this prison. But when your bark was stronger than your bite, limits had to be kept. And now that her stomach was full, exhaustion settled heavily on her.

"Well, I believe we have several rooms that are unused. The castle may even provide a room for you." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he said this last part. All this merry twinkling made Kenna want to eat some cute fluffy bunnies.

But he was offering her lodging and hopefully more of this delicious food while she was effectively grounded. Dredging up all the courtly manners she possessed, she stood and bowed stiffly, more from back pain than anything.

"Thank you, sir," she said politely. "I would prefer a room to the," hellhole,"infirmary."

"Right, then let us get you settled. Lemon drop?"


	3. Part 3

Ch5

The Great Hall was filled to the brim with chattering, yelling students cramming their faces of food. Dinner was going on as usual when Dumbledore stood and waited for the students to notice and calm down. He smiled serenely, looking from house table to table.

"I hope you are all enjoying your meal. I have an announcement to make." He gestured off to the end of the staff table to a new face to most of the students. "Would you please stand Miss Kenna."

At the Gryffindor table, Hermione choked on her pumpkin juice.

Kenna stood, looking out onto the sea of students, all those young faces staring up at her. She nodded in a general gesture of greeting. Meeting the school wasn't what she really wanted to do, but it was part of the Headmaster's requests. In order to stay, she had to make nice with the students.

"Due to her injuries, Miss Kenna will be joining us in our day to day life here at Hogwarts," Dumbledore continued. "And she has also graciously agreed to assist some of our staff in their classes. So you will be seeing her in your classes for a while. Mostly for those students year three and above in Care of Magical creatures and its advancing courses."

And that was the other half of Dumbledore's requests. Putting her limited knowledge of magical creatures and such to good use.

Kenna sat gingerly, careful not to jar her injuries further. The professor next to her, a tiny man, offered to charm a cushion for her, but she declined.

Things were going rather well, despite the hardships. She was well fed and settled into a small set of rooms complete with her own washroom. Though she still had difficulties dealing with her injuries.

CH6

Whispers were traveling through the Great Hall. Most of them focused around the same couple of themes:

"Who is she really?"

"Where did she come from?"

"Why does she still have bandages on? Didn't Pomfrey fix her up?"

Also, a thread of: "Who does she think she is, playing assistant when other students aren't allowed to? She hardly looks older than us," was heard from the Gryffindor table. This was heard specifically from one mouth.

"I hope you all have the chance to say hello to our guest while she is here. Now I'm sure you all wish to get back to your meal."

The whispers continued through the meal, most of which was hardly touched. Even the Slytherins were curious about the new arrival.

After a while, the students watched as the newcomer rose stiffly and hobbled out. Colin Creevey and his little brother booked it out of the Great Hall, likely in hopes of photographing the mysterious young woman and possibly interview her.

The rest of the students slowly began to file out. Unfortunately, Slytherin and Gryffindor clashed a bit at the door. Draco posed, flanked by the usual flunkies.

"Hey Potty, how's the hand?" he sneered.

Harry growled, flexing his still sore hand. At least it wasn't in bandages anymore. Hermione rested a hand on Ron's shoulder to hold him still.

"Is there something important you have to say, Draco?" She asked.

"Just making sure Boy Wonder is in good condition, Granger," he drawled. "Would hate to have him beak too easily under any new threats from You-know-who." He shifted his gaze to the rapidly emptying staff table. "Especially anything that didn't seem like a threat." Another grin and he strolled out the door, Crabbe and Goyle plodding along behind.

The trio was frozen in shock for a moment before turning slowly to look at each other.

"Do you think?" Ron asked.

"She looks like she's been dropped off a cliff," Harry added.

"And surely Pomfrey checked her injuries. They must be real," Hermione put in.

"So... she can't be a... secret weapon, right?"

They all stared a few more minutes, then booked it out of the Great Hall for Gryffindor tower.

Author's Notes: Sorry it cuts off there. Couldn't figure out what else to do with them. Presumably, they all ran off to research and see if they could find out if it was possible to be all undercover like that. And hey, no one has left a review yet. Even if it was only "Hey, I read it." Please?


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